


Indefensible

by Dearly_Divided



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Corruption, F/M, Found Family, I played fast and loose with the american justice system, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lawyer John, Morally Ambiguous Character, Murder, Past Abuse, Sibling Bonding, lawyer AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22545979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dearly_Divided/pseuds/Dearly_Divided
Summary: “Yeah, he - Jacob I mean - he gave me your number a while back…” she swallowed uncomfortably, “He told me that if I was ever in any kind of trouble to call.”There was a pause on the other end of the line, and the only sounds Rook could hear was John’s breathing and the pounding of her own heart as the silence stretched on.“ … I see. I take it from this call that you’ve managed to find yourself in trouble, then?”
Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge & Jacob Seed, Female Deputy | Judge/John Seed
Comments: 17
Kudos: 112





	Indefensible

**Author's Note:**

> Idk what this is but enjoy lmao

Rook’s leg bounced against the vinyl flooring, her thumping uneasily in her chest as the phone rang once, then twice. Her eyes fluttered closed, chewing on her bottom lip as it continued to ring.

_Please._

_Please pick up._

By the fifth ring her stomach was in knots, cold dread seeping through her veins when, finally, she heard that telltale click.

“John Seed,” the voice purred, sounding just slightly out of breath.

Rook could have wept at the very sound of it, but she fought back the tears that brimmed in her eyes and let out a choked sigh of relief. “H-hi. My name is Rook - Eleanor Rook. We uh, we don’t know each other, but I know your brother.”

The man - John - made a sound somewhere between a scoff and sigh. “Is that so?” he hummed, a distinct edge to his voice. “And what can I do for you, Eleanor?” 

“Yeah, he - Jacob I mean - he gave me your number a while back…” she swallowed uncomfortably, “He told me that if I was ever in any kind of trouble to call.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and the only sounds Rook could hear was John’s breathing and the pounding of her own heart as the silence stretched on. _Please don’t hang up. Please._

“ … I see. I take it from this call that you’ve managed to find yourself in trouble, then?”

She might have laughed if her throat hadn’t tightened, panic clawing its way through her as she stared at the cold metal cuffs that bound her wrists to the table. “You could say that.”

To his credit, John barely uttered a peep as she told him where she was, the charges that they’d brought her in under. “I don’t have the money to ask you to be my lawyer, and I’m not asking you for charity, but I really, really don’t wanna go to prison for this and I don’t know what else to do.”

She heard him exhale, her fingernails biting into the palm of her hand as she waited for him to speak.

“It’s late, my dear,” he said after a long pause.

Her heart sunk, but she nodded. “I know. I-I understand.” He didn’t owe her anything, he barely knew her - what was she expecting, really? Some kind of a miracle? For him to take her at her word and come riding in like a knight in shining armour and make all of this disappear? This wasn’t some damned fairytale, and lady luck had never been that kind to her, why should she expect it to be any different now?

Rook swallowed, fighting back the tears that welled in her eyes, “I-if I can ask you for a favour, though? Can you call Jacob and tell him where I am? I’d do it myself but they’re only giving me one call and… I chose you,” she laughed, the sound hollow and cracked. “He doesn’t have to come here or anything, I just… he should know.”

On the other end of the line, John sighed. “I’ll be there in an hour. Until then, sit tight and for the love of god, don’t say a word.”

Relief surged through her veins and she sagged back against the rigid metal chair. “Thank you,” she breathed, a single tear spilling down her cheek. “Thank you so much.”

“I can’t make any promises, my dear, but I’ll do what I can.”

Rook thanked him again once more before the phone clicked telling her that he’d hung up. Within a few minutes a uniformed officer was back in the interrogation room to take the phone away. He asked on the way out if she wanted a glass of water, but mindful of John’s words, Rook kept silent. 

The officer shrugged and shut the door behind him, leaving Rook to sit and stew and wait for her lawyer to appear.

On the other side of town in his high rise apartment, John Seed was sitting on his lounge, staring mournfully at the glass of whiskey he’d not long poured. 

It would be so easy to pretend that that call hadn’t happened, to take his whiskey, settle back down into his seat, turn on the game and relax for the first night in a long while. But even he wasn’t that heartless, and with a reluctant grumble he unlocked his phone once more and scrolled down to find Jacob’s number, hitting the red call button and holding it to his ear once more.

“I’m busy, John, this better be important,” Jacob growled upon picking up.

He almost smiled - his brother was, if nothing else, predictable in his irritability. “Do you always answer the phone like that, Jake? Or am I just a special case? You know, most people-”

“Get to the damned point. It’s late and like I said, I’m busy.”

And suddenly John sobered, the faint traces of wry mirth slipping from his face. For Jacob to give Rook his number meant that she was somebody important to him, he trusted her, actually _cared_ for her. His brother didn’t trust easily, loved few and far between… he didn’t know what their relationship was, but John had a feeling that Jacob wasn’t going to take the news well regardless. 

He cleared his throat before speaking, “I had a call from a friend of yours. She said her name was Eleanor Rook, ring any bells?”

The muted cursing on the other end of the line crushed any selfish hopes John had that the girl was lying. “Rook?” he rasped. “Fuck! Is she in trouble? Is she… okay?”

“She’s been arrested, Jacob. They’re charging her with the murder of her father.”

“Where?” 

John took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m heading down to see her now. Once I’m there I can talk with her, see what evidence they have against her and I’ll have a better idea of how serio-”

“Where is she?” Jacob growled, cutting him off yet again.

“You being there won’t help her, I don’t even know if she’ll be able to get out tonight-”

“For fuck’s sake, John!” he shouted. “Where. Is. Rook?!”

Shaking his head in resignation, John relented. “She’s downtown.”

“I’ll meet you there in twenty.”

He’d hung up the phone before John even had a chance to reply.

Needless to say, when John strode into the downtown precinct forty-seven minutes later, Jacob was already waiting for him, arms crossed and scowling.

Delightful.

“They won’t let me see her,” he said as John approached.

He shot his older brother a pointed look, “Of course they won’t. She’s been accused of murder, Jacob. It’s not some misdemeanour charge we can just sweep under the rug.” 

But Jacob’s hand caught at his arm as he made to walk past. “John, please. She doesn’t deserve this, she _can’t_ \- you have to help her.”

It wasn’t so much Jacob’s words that brought him up short, but the look in his eyes, the fear and worry that bled through, all for some girl that John neither knew nor cared about. John did however care about his brother, and it was obvious that she meant something to him. Besides, John couldn’t deny that he was curious - mostly at what kind of girl could wrap his emotionally stunted older brother around her finger and then find herself arrested for murder.

Well, that, and he never could resist a challenge.

He offered Jacob a small smile, clapping him on the shoulder and nodding, “I’ll do what I can, but I can’t make any promises, you know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” he replied.

“I’ll do what I can,” John repeated as Jacob let him go, straightening out his suit before walking up to the reception, feeling his brother’s gaze burning into his back the entire way.

***

Rook sat up a little straighter as the door to the interrogation room opened once more and that same uniformed officer strode in. “Your lawyer’s here,” he said, stepping aside to let the other man enter. 

She’d seen pictures of John before, Jacob had a family portrait sitting next to the TV in his apartment, but even if she hadn’t, there was no doubting the man in the sharp suit was Jacob’s brother. While his hair was dark and slicked back, his beard neatly trimmed and his features a little finer than Jacob’s, the eyes were unmistakable - that same pretty shade of blue, the same piercing intensity as they flickered over her, taking her in for the very first time. He was handsome, maybe ten or fifteen years younger than Jake and while he was shorter and not nearly as physically imposing as his brother, there was no denying that John had a presence. Of course, his was charming and cocky, but there was something of Jacob in that too. 

“You can go, now,” he said to the officer, waving him off without ever actually looking at him. “I need to talk with my client alone.”

The officer rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, but ultimately complied, shutting the door on his way out.

A slow smile grew on his face as he drew close, sticking out a hand for her to shake, “John Seed, and you must be Rook, or do you prefer Eleanor?”

She took his hand in hers - starting a little at the warmth -and tried her best to remember how to smile back, “Yes, and Rook’s fine, it’s what most people call me.”

“Rook it is,” he said, easing himself down into the seat opposite her. “So, start at the beginning, my dear.”

“Which beginning would you like? My arrest? The night I supposedly killed my father? The days leading up to it?”

He smirked, huffing out a chuckle. “We’ll get to those. No, I want to know about you and Jacob.”

Rook raised a single eyebrow. “I’ve been charged with _murder_ and you want to know about my relationship with Jake?”

“Yes,” he said simply, leaning back and watching her with a cheshire cat like grin. “I don’t normally do favours, consider it a payment of sorts.”

She understood in that moment exactly what Jacob had meant when he said that John could be arrogant little asshole when he wanted to be. But be that as it may, he was doing her a favour, and John was quite possibly the only thing standing between her and spending the rest of her life rotting away in jail.

“It’s not what you think.”

John shrugged, “You don’t know what I think.”

“Fair point,” she replied. “Just so we’re clear right off the bat, I’m not sleeping with your brother and I’m not in love with him. He’s a friend, my neighbour actually.”

Rook could practically see the gears turning behind his eyes, mulling her words over, trying to glean some kind of deeper insight into it. “Close neighbours.”

“It didn’t start out that way, he barely said more than two words to me when I first moved in, and I was lucky if I got a grunt when passing him in the hallway but…” she trailed off, nibbling at her bottom lip, that cold feeling of dread settling into the pit of her stomach.

“But what?” he coaxed, a slight furrow appearing on his brow.

Rook remembered the exact day that things changed between her and Jacob Seed, but it wasn’t a pleasant memory. She took a deep breath and met his gaze once more. “I have lawyer-client privilege, right? I mean, I know I’m not paying you for this, but whatever I tell you-”

John raised his hand in the air and shook his head with a frown, stopping her words in their tracks. “Whatever you tell me will remain strictly between you and I. I’m not here to judge you, my dear.”

She licked her lips, nodding absentmindedly. “My father was a violent drunk. It wasn’t so bad when I was younger, but when my mother died in an accident… it got worse. A lot worse. I thought that when I moved out it would stop, but I came home from work one day and he was in my apartment waiting for me and Jacob-” the words just wouldn’t come. He was dead and in the ground and it didn’t make any difference. The fear and panic still crippled her, eating away at her until there was nothing good left for her to cling to.

“And Jacob found you,” John surmised, his voice quiet and somber.

She nodded wordlessly.

John sighed, his eyes fluttering closed for just a second as he ran a hand through his hair. “Rook, they have the knife with your fingerprints on it.”

“I know,” she murmured.

“Your hair was at the scene. Your car was parked across the street and you have no alibi. The only thing they need to nail you is a confession, and even without one it’s still enough to go to trial. Tell me what happened.”

“I have a half sister,” she began. “She’s six and her name is Elizabeth I didn’t even know about her until about a year ago. His new wife reached out to me - apparently he’d let it slip that he had another kid and… she wanted to meet me.” Rook smiled, but it was a smile tinged with pain and grief. “At first I said no. I didn’t know the kid and I didn’t want anything to do with my father, but Liz’s mom swore up and down that he was a changed man. He was going to AA and anger management classes, she promised me that I wouldn’t have to see him, Liz just wanted to meet her big sister.”

“So you went to meet her?” he prodded after a moment of silence.

Rook nodded, “Yeah. I told myself it was to make sure that she was okay, that he wasn’t doing to her what he did to me, but truthfully I think that I was just curious. I’d never had a sibling before. She was a happy kid, and it seemed like he was actually trying. I thought I’d be jealous about that, but at the end of the day all I cared about was that she was safe. I’m not some heartless monster,” she said, her eyes flashing up to meet his.

“I never said you were,” he replied calmly. “But go on.”

She licked her lips and started again, “I didn’t want him anywhere near me, but Elizabeth was sweet kid and she had nothing to do with that. She started school this year and with work being busy, we set up a weekly skype call instead of the meetups we’d done before. Things were fine until about two weeks ago when I caught sight of a bruise on her arm. She tried to hide it at first, told me that she’d tripped at school, but eventually she told me that _daddy had gotten mad_.” Her voice shook with anger as tears once again pricked at the corners of her eyes. “I called him the next day, told him I wanted to come over and see him. His wife works a full time job, and with Liz in school I knew he’d be alone.”

“Did you go to his house intending to kill him?” he asked, studying her with a hawk-like intensity.

The knots in her stomach tightened, but she shook her head. “No. I went to confront him, to tell him that if he ever laid another hand on that sweet little girl or her mother I would report him myself and make sure that he’d never be able to see them again. But being back there, with him it-it got out of hand so, and suddenly he was screaming at me and I just got so angry and the knife was _right there_ and then-” she broke off, the words lodging themselves in her throat.

Without a word, John reached across the table and took her hand in his.

“I ran,” she whispered with wide eyes as his thumb brushed a soothing pattern back and forth across her skin. “I stabbed him again and again and again and then I ran.”

But John just shook his head, leaning in closer and clutching her tighter, “He would have hurt you again - hurt your sister. He _deserved_ it.”

“I killed my father,” she gasped, and like a switch flipped suddenly she was crying - painful sobs clawing their way free as tears spilled down her cheeks. “I killed him.”

John stayed with her until the tears subsided and her breathing evened out, comforting her as best he could. He left briefly at one point to get her something warm to drink, and when she managed a watery smile upon his return, John felt something warm and pleasant flutter in his stomach.

He supposed he could see why Jacob was protective of her. 

It was only when he felt satisfied that she wasn’t about to break down into tears again that he took his leave, squeezing her hand once more and promising that he’d be back soon.

In the meantime, he went in search of his brother.

Unsurprisingly he found him sprawled out on one of the shitty plastic chairs, flipping through a newspaper with a cup of black coffee in hand. Jacob perked up at the sound of his approach, quickly folding up the paper and tossing it aside as he shifted into a more upright position.

“How is she? She okay?” he asked.

John made a non-committal sound as he eased himself into the seat beside him. “Not great. She’s scared and upset, but that’s to be expected. She’s been through a hell of a lot.”

Jacob scoffed. “You don’t know the half of it. But she’s tough, so long and she doesn’t end up in prison for the rest of her life, she’ll get through this,” he said, shooting his brother a pointed look.

It was only through years of practiced self control that John stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “I’ve already said that I’ll help her through this, Jake. I’m not about to abandon her to whatever two bit defence attorney they’d throw her way. But there’s not much more I can do tonight. You might as well head home,” he paused, offering Jacob a rueful smile, “We can start fresh tomorrow. They might even let you visit her.”

But Jacob’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean tomorrow? She’s not staying here overnight!” he growled. “What about bail?”

John gaped at him, “She’s been arrested for murder, Jacob! They don’t usually grant bail for that kind of thing!” he hissed, quickly glancing around to make sure they weren’t in danger of being overheard.

“She can’t stay here!” Jacob snarled.

“And what do you want me to do about it? Find the nearest Judge, get on my knees and beg? It’s almost midnight, I can’t just snap my fingers and make it happen!”

“I want you to do _something_! You’re supposed to be the fucking hotshot lawyer. Figure it out!”

John grit his teeth, grabbing Jacob by the arm and tugging him closer, “Would you please keep your fucking voice down?!”

But the glare on his brother’s face didn’t relent, “Will you do your damned job?”

If it were anyone else, John wouldn’t have had a problem telling them exactly where they could shove it, but it wasn’t anybody else - it was Jacob, and as much as he’d rather not admit it, his own stomach lurched uncomfortably at the prospect of leaving her to fend for herself overnight in the holding cells.

“It’s not exactly a job if I’m not being paid for it, but fine,” he retorted. “I suppose I can call in a few favours, pull a few strings.” 

John’s phone was already in his hand, fingers dancing across the screen. “It does pay to have friends with loose morals in high places,” he said, the corners of his lips twisting into a smirk.

Jacob rolled his eyes snorted, but John didn’t miss the way his shoulders relaxed, the tension bleeding from his face. John took that as his cue to get to work, leaving Jacob with his newspaper in the bullpen in search of somewhere far less public to make a few calls.

It took almost two hours, but when John returned he was grinning from ear to ear, and he wasn’t alone.

“Bail?” Jacob asked, his eyes flickering between his brother and the glowering detective behind him.

John shot him a smirk, “Set and paid. The charming gentleman behind me is just going to retrieve Rook for us now, isn’t that right, detective?” he said, glancing back at the man.

The man just grunted, rolling his eyes and muttering something under his breath about ‘fucking lawyers’ before stalking off in the direction of the interrogation room.

When he returned ten minutes later, a wide eyed Rook was with him. He made a big show of unlocking her cuffs, all but shoving the paperwork for her to sign into her arms. When she passed it back he merely grunted, shooting John one last glare before turning on his heel and stalking away.

“You alright, honey?” Jacob asked, watching her carefully.

Rook smiled, stepping forward and allowing the mountain of a man to pull her into a bear hug, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

John opened his mouth to say something, but as Jacob released her, Rook’s blue grey eyes met his and his mouth suddenly went dry. Before he could really comprehend it, her arms were wrapped around his waist and she was _hugging_ him.

“Thank you,” she murmured against his chest.

If Jacob noticed the faint pink that dusted John’s cheeks as he hesitantly returned the embrace, he kept it to himself.

***

“She’s asleep,” John murmured, accepting the beer his brother handed him and falling back into his couch with a soft groan. While their apartment block was technically closer, neither Eleanor nor Jacob objected too strongly when John suggested they return to his place instead. It was bigger, nicer, had rooms for all three of them and more importantly it didn't bring back memories of Eleanor being hauled out past the front door in handcuffs.

“Good,” he replied, taking a swig of his own drink. “So why don’t you tell me exactly how screwed we are.”

“They have the knife and her DNA all over the scene. Even without her confession or a motive, the evidence is enough to prove beyond reasonable doubt that she killed him. We plead self defence. We bring up his history of abuse, see if we can’t get his wife to testify to that, and we argue that he attacked her and that she only fought back to save her life. She’s young, pretty, and she has a spotless record otherwise, she should be sympathetic to the jury.”

Jacob hummed, watching John carefully, “That sounds like a good thing, so why don’t you look happy about it? What’s the problem?”

“The _problem_ is that she set up that meeting knowing he’d be alone in that house. If we enter the abuse into the court then it gives the prosecution motive, and they’ll argue that it was premeditated, that she went to his house with every intention of killing him as punishment for the years of abuse. Any number of people can likely testify that she hadn’t spoken to him in years, that their relationship wasn’t exactly a loving father-daughter bond. Rook went to meet him, knowing he’d been alone, seemingly out of the blue and, somehow, he winds up dead at the end of it. It doesn’t paint a good picture.” He took another sip of beer, shaking his head grimly. “If they can convince the jury that it was premeditated, she could be charged with first degree, and even if they can’t prove she planned it, she can still go down for second degree.”

For a moment they sat in silence, mulling over his words.

But John let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head. “It’s not _enough_ to say that Rook acted in self defence, we have to prove that she feared for her life - that _he_ attacked _her_ first, which is difficult when she doesn’t have a scratch on her.”

Jacob glanced sharply over at him, “It shouldn’t matter whether that asshole came at her at not!”

John just raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “I’m not arguing that! She’s not a violent killer, but there is every chance that I put her on the stand and all the jury will see is a victim who suffered years of abuse and finally snapped. No one will blame her for being angry, Jacob, but it won’t stop them from finding her guilty of murder.” 

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. 

“If the self defence plea works?” Jacob asked eventually.

“Then it’s not a criminal charge - Rook gets acquitted and this all goes away.”

There was a pregnant pause. “And if it doesn’t?”

John’s eyes drifted to the door of the spare bedroom where Rook was peacefully sleeping. He sighed, “First degree is thirty years minimum. Second degree we’re looking at maybe ten, more likely fifteen years, but she’ll at least have the possibility of parole.”

“She can’t go to prison, John.”

When he met his brother’s gaze, John saw nothing but unflinching determination - he was entirely serious. Jacob would fight for her, regardless of what stood in the way. He understood, in that moment, that his brother would do whatever he deemed necessary to protect Eleanor, even if that meant breaking the law. 

And it wasn’t so much that realisation that made his heart jolt, but rather the sudden certainty he felt within himself that if it came to that, he wouldn’t lift a single goddamned finger to stop him.

“I know,” he replied. “For now, she’s home. The arraignment’s been set for Thursday, and then we’ll know exactly what the District Attorney’s charging her with and the evidence they intend to use against her.”

Jacob snorted, but for now the conversation was done. Jacob finished his beer and headed off to John’s other spare room to crash for the night, leaving John alone once more in his living room.

He was tired, exhausted actually, but sleep was the last thing on his mind. 

Instead, his thoughts were occupied by Eleanor; the case being built against her, the evidence they had, the odd sense of protectiveness and urge to comfort he’d felt when she’d broken down, but more than any of that, John thought about the way it had felt to have her in his arms.

Over the next three days, John and Rook worked on her defence. He drilled her for hours on her story, running through her timeline again and again until she begged him for a break. Together, they compiled a list of people they could potentially call on to testify in her favour - a list that was far too short for John’s liking. He ran her through her courtroom presentation, explained the full trial process in depth, from the jury selection process to opening arguments and the cross examination she’d have to undertake.

“The Prosecution has the knife with your fingerprints on it - it’s a smoking gun. They can prove that you killed your father with the evidence alone, so they will try and tear you apart, they’ll pick and prod in an effort to make you emotional, angry even. They want to paint you in the worst possible light, and you cannot let them.”

Eleanor had nodded, but John couldn’t help but remember how she’d broken down in that interrogation - the wrath that had sparked before the tears had come, and he felt a flicker of unease gnaw at his gut.

And all the while Jacob sat back and watched with an unreadable expression, keeping his thoughts to himself. It was only after Eleanor was out of earshot, fast asleep in her room that he allowed himself to speak freely.

“She won’t win this,” he murmured. “ _You_ can’t win this.”

John wasn’t sure what unnerved him more, that he agreed with Jacob, or the deep seated sense of dread that that realisation sparked within him. 

“Have a little faith, brother,” he said, plastering an easy smirk across his face.

Yet hours later when John finally retreated to bed, he couldn’t stop turning Jacob’s words over in his head. It wasn’t an impossible task, winning - he was damned good at what he did, and he’d won cases with worse odds than this one. 

But if they lost, if Eleanor was found guilty… 

His throat constricted at the very thought of it. He refused to consider it. Whether she was guilty or not was irrelevant; Jacob was right, she couldn’t go to jail. 

It wasn’t because he believed she acted in self defence, truthfully he wouldn’t have cared if she’d hunted him down and killed him in cold blood. It was as much as that piece of shit deserved. He knew better than most that justice came in many forms, who was he to deny Eleanor hers?

John refused to risk losing her, and while Jacob was almost certainly working on contingency plans of his own, John wasn’t entirely out of tricks either. All it took was a single text message to an old _associate_ of his.

_Downtown PD - CF: HOM.251827 - E. Rook_

While it was good to have friends in high places, John often found that it was the ones at the other end of the spectrum who really ended up being invaluable. Especially those with easy access to certain rooms within a secure government facility.

An hour and twenty seven minutes later, his phone buzzed.

_Done._

John smiled as he slipped back into bed.

Problem solved.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked it! Comments and kudos are always appreciated


End file.
